Climbing the Ladder 5 - Reaching New Heights - Cover

Climbing the Ladder 5 - Reaching New Heights

Copyright© 2026 by Michael Loucks

Chapter 27: Different Candy, Different Toys

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 27: Different Candy, Different Toys - Jonathan's business life is booming, but he's also suffering from yet another loss. While he's done his best to pick up the pieces of that sundered relationship, he can't help but feel responsible. However, where two close relationships have withered, another blooms. Violet has transitioned from a badly damaged girl to a vibrant woman. Will he continue to climb this ladder, or will there be another ladder to climb in his future? No matter what, the only direction he plans to go is up.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Workplace  

July 26, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

"You're home earlier than I expected!" Bianca declared when I walked into the condo.

"Despite significant enticement, I felt I should stick to my rule about getting involved with anyone at Spurgeon, with the obvious exceptions of you and Violet."

"Enticement?"

"I walked her home, and she invited me in for ice cream. In the process, I met her housemates, and several very direct offers were made!"

Bianca laughed, "Continuing the pattern of every single pussy being available to you!"

"You know that's not true! Anala is the primary example, and Chelsea would never do that, even if I were inclined, which I'm not."

"I'll give you Anala, but Chelsea is trying awfully hard to get your attention!"

"OK, let me modify what I said — if I had a lobotomy and started believing not just in God, but her very specific theology, then, yes, it would be available after engagement and marriage. I am absolutely not signing up for that lunacy, no matter how hot she is! Not to mention Evangelical girls have a reputation for being prudes; Catholic girls, on the other hand..."

"Go all the way in the rectory basement!" Bianca exclaimed with a smirk. "Zappa wasn't wrong! They all want to fuck you; they just need to justify it in their own minds. That was true about Rachel, and your rationale was that you didn't believe she had given up on her core beliefs."

"I think it was a bit more nuanced — I think she had convinced herself to set them aside, but evidence suggested they would still control her thinking and behavior, and the real concern was starting a relationship and having those ideas come to the forefront."

"Making you feel trapped."

"Not trapped, as any fundamental change like that would leave me free to walk away, but walking away becomes increasingly fraught with trouble the longer it goes. My analysis was that the risk was too great. I was willing to stay friends with her, and who knows what might have happened, but she chose to walk away."

"Would you like to hold your daughter?"

"I would. Let me change first. I'll be back in a flash."

Five minutes later, I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and cuddling my daughter on my chest.

"Was Naomi upset?"

"No. I explained my reluctance based on the environment at Spurgeon, and she said she completely understood. Despite her roommates making it very clear what they wanted, I declined because I thought it would be tacky to refuse Naomi but accept offers from her roomies."

"Well, I'm sure there will be pussy in your bed tonight!"

I chuckled, "Misty, of course!"

My daughter had fallen asleep, so I carried her upstairs and put her in her crib, then got my sociology notes so I could study. I studied for about ninety minutes, and when I finished, I was satisfied I was ready for Saturday's exam. At bedtime, Bianca offered to join me, and I accepted her offer.

July 27, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

Late on Friday morning, I was notified by New Accounts that the account transfers for the FJF attorneys had been completed, and I spent the rest of the morning selling the bulk of securities that had transferred and reallocating that money, mostly to the Nikkei for the short term.

Interestingly, our model for US stocks ticked over into bullish territory for the first time in 1984. That was a product of our interest rate projections, exchange rates, and what appeared now to be a near certainty that Reagan would easily win re-election. Based on that, I began reviewing my positions to ensure my portfolio was properly aligned with what I expected to be a serious bull market, accelerating as interest rates were cut. That analysis took me to lunch, and after eating with Bianca and Violet, the three of us went to the gym.

When I returned from lunch, there were two things on my desk — a message asking me to see Murray Matheson and a gift certificate to Smith & Wollensky with a note from Norman Monroe thanking me for helping Missy with her homework. It had to have been put there by Anna or Mia because Norm Monroe was in London. I put the gift certificate in my satchel, then went to the FX office to see Murray Matheson, where Anna instructed me to go right in.

"You rang?" I asked.

"You're not tall enough to be Lurch, Kane! What's your take on Spurgeon Capital starting to market interest rate swaps?"

"Collateralized or un-collateralized?"

"Collateralized," Murray said. "Noel isn't interested in taking on the risks of un-collateralized swaps at this point."

"Then your main exposure is unexpected interest rate changes, along with being able to properly judge credit risk. Given we're not a bank, reputational risk isn't really a concern. Fundamentally, so long as we properly model forward interest rates and properly evaluate credit risk, we'd be in good shape because collateralized swaps ensure that, in default, the counterparty comes out whole; we just sit pretty and collect our fees.

"We will need to develop algorithms to ensure our inventory is properly hedged so that when it's marked to market, we don't see a net decrease in asset value. We'll also need to model the probability of default. It's those two tasks that present the biggest obstacle — the data analysts simply don't have the capacity to do that and complete their other commitments. That's especially true if you intend to offer cross-currency interest rate swaps.

"I had planned to budget for an additional data analyst for next year, but what you're talking about means we'd need two, and we really couldn't start until we had at least one of them on board. We're also budgeting for a network to connect the PCs and a Sun-2 Workstation, which we'll need if we're going to do the heavy analysis for a full portfolio of interest rate swaps. That will add around $190,000 in overhead, taking into account loaded employee costs and depreciation on the new computer equipment."

"What's the up-front cost on that computer?"

"I don't have the exact number because we just started working on the budget request due at the end of September, but Bianca estimated between $65 and $70 grand, fully configured, including tax and the first year's maintenance."

"How soon can we get the system delivered if we place an order right away?"

"Six to eight weeks, according to Bianca. We could begin working on the programs immediately, as the new system is compatible with our current system. The real constraint is finding two good programmers. There are very few with relevant experience in the financial services field, so we'd need to bring in someone like Steve Smith, with a solid background in statistics, data analytics, and programming."

"Your analysis of the risks matches mine," Murray said. "I can't really speak to the nerdy shit; that's your bailiwick. You OK with making an off-the-cuff presentation to Noel?"

"With the caveat that Bianca is the true expert, yes."

"Noel won't get down in the weeds, so you can handle it. Let me call him and see what he says."

I nodded, and Murray picked up the phone. He dialed Noel's direct number, and unsurprisingly, the call was answered immediately. They had a brief conversation, and I understood the gist from Murray's side of the call. He hung up, then stood.

"Let's go see him."

As usual, when Noel Spurgeon had an idea, or when Murray presented one Noel liked, things moved blindingly fast. That had not been the case with regard to computers when I had been in the mailroom. Now that we'd shown their true value, Noel was willing to pull the trigger much faster than he had been when Jack Nelson had been advocating for basic redundant systems during my time in the mailroom.

"How much?" Noel asked me without any preface.

"About $190,000 per year in fixed overhead, including two data analysts, the Novell NetWare setup, and the depreciation on a Sun-2 Workstation. The capital outlay would be around $90 grand. That was going to be the bulk of my ask for next year, beyond current staffing and equipment."

"How long to develop the algorithms?"

"The formulas are well understood — the Merton model has been around since 1974. That means we can fairly quickly come up with the basic credit risk analysis. It will then need to be modified for our purposes and linked to the interest rate futures analysis and our exchange rate futures analysis. That's the trickier part. Call it ninety days from when the new analyst starts work."

"Murray, do you stand by your revenue projections?"

"I do. $20 million in the first twelve months, ten times that within five years."

"And the overhead side for that $200 million?"

"Around ten staff, across the board — one each in New Accounts and Compliance; six in FX; two in the back office."

"Thanks, Murray. I'll let you know by Tuesday. Kane, stay. Murray, close the door on your way out."

Murray left, closing the door as asked.

"If you were in my chair, what would you do with Carl Taylor's and Glenn Fletcher's portfolios?"

"They're toxic. I'd say it's time for a frank conversation with the investors in those two funds. There are three options — let it ride and hope they come back in '85 and suffer the reputational risk of reporting a down year for their funds, though no realized losses; liquidate, creating actual losses for our clients; or transfer to another broker outside Spurgeon and wash our hands. There is a fourth option, but the chance you can find another desk here to take over those positions is about the same chance as the Cubs have of winning the World Series, and you'd still be left with losing positions."

"For fuck's sake, Kane!" Noel growled. "I know the options. I don't need you to tell me what they are! I asked what you would do!"

I almost apologized, but that would make the situation worse for me than the relatively mild reprimand I'd just received.

"If the clients aren't prepared to take a loss, which I'm going to assume they aren't, then transferring their accounts to a full-service retail brokerage firm at our expense would be the best course of action. That takes unrealized losses off our books and accepts lower total AUM to avoid reputational damage. It also doesn't create immediate harm for the client."

"Better. Tell me the risk of doing that."

"Other than showing lower AUM, lawsuits. The thing is, lawsuits are going to happen no matter which option you choose, barring some way to salvage those positions so they at least match the projected S&P return of 6%."

"You don't think either one is salvageable?"

"Taylor's? Not a chance, even with what appear to be the first signs of an impending bull market. With the right moves and a bit of luck, you might get it to -4%, but I don't see how you could get it to even, let alone to +6%, from -16%. Forget the hurdle, as that's never going to happen. Fletcher's could probably be brought from -8% to even, but there's no chance it could beat the hurdle, and matching the S&P would be a Herculean task."

"I want you to do a complete portfolio analysis for both their funds and tell me how to get them to +1% by the end of the year. That'll beat your projection for the Dow."

I wanted to object with regard to Taylor's fund, but that would not go over well with Noel Spurgeon. All I could do was see if there was SOME way forward, and if not, then I'd have to say it when I presented my plan. What Noel had just made exceedingly clear was that both those traders and their desks were gone at the end of the year, and he might even pull the trigger sooner.

"I'll get started on that right away," I said.

"On the QT, Kane. Nobody knows about this except you and me, and it has to stay that way."

He said that, but there was no doubt in my mind that Taylor knew he was in deep shit, so he had to expect what was about to happen. Fletcher wasn't in quite as bad a position, but I suspected he knew as well, given his fund was underwater for the year.

"Understood."

"Have that to me as soon as possible. Dismissed."

I left his office on 32 and returned to 29, and as I walked to the Research Department offices, I contemplated the direction I'd been given. My immediate concern was that any attempt to salvage the positions might actually make things worse and might require exposing Spurgeon to inordinate risks. In my mind, moving those funds to a full-service retail broker was the best possible strategy. That would take them off our books without the clients realizing any losses. They could then let it ride or change investment strategies, but it would be on them, not us.

The real solution was for Taylor and Fletcher to never have put themselves in their current positions. It was hard to fathom losing money when fixed-rate products were returning double digits, but I had looked at their investment strategies, and they had no fixed-income products in their portfolios. I understood why — that would limit their upside in exchange for security. In my mind, having a portion of my portfolio return what amounted to a guaranteed 12% was worth tying up money I could use to seek higher gains, to ensure I didn't suffer a major reversal.

When I sat down, I first pulled up Taylor's trades for the previous twelve months and printed them out, then did the same for Fletcher's. As I scanned the green-bar printouts, I saw that both Taylor and Fletcher had hedged some positions, but not sufficiently, and their naked positions had performed worse than their hedged positions.

They had become reckless in their attempts to recover and had actually made things worse. That fact was the basis for what I was sure were dozens of incoming lawsuits. If someone put me on the witness stand and asked my opinion, I'd have no choice but to say they'd failed in their fiduciary responsibility by taking unacceptable risks not supported by any rational market analysis. Had they been right, they'd have recovered, but they were wrong in such a way that they'd suffered even bigger losses.

The more I looked at Taylor's positions, the more hopeless I was sure they were, so I set that printout aside and focused on Fletcher's. His situation wasn't nearly as dire, and I began to formulate a plan to sell some of his positions and use fixed-income products, along with precious metals and FX futures, to get him to +1%, though I couldn't guarantee the strategy would work.

The problem with the strategy I was devising was that it would violate the fund's asset allocation plan, which did not include fixed income, precious metals, or currency transactions — it was a pure equity fund. If I stayed within the bounds of the fund's asset allocation plan, there was no way it would recover. Given Noel Spurgeon hadn't asked me to 'find a way within the existing allocation plan' but to 'find a way', I felt I could present that strategy.

I spent about two hours writing an analysis and rebalancing plan for Fletcher's fund, along with my suggested modifications to the asset allocation plan. Once I was satisfied, I put it aside and returned to Taylor's completely hopeless situation. Barring some kind of miracle — and I didn't believe in miracles — he was, to put it in industry terms, fucked six ways from Sunday.

While -8% to +1% was possible, and even probable with a bullish market and perfect execution, I didn't see how -16% to +1% could work without taking insane risks that might result in even steeper losses, and would violate ALL the risk guidelines, something I was positive would be vetoed by Compliance, even if Noel would actually consider such a risky move, which was unlikely.

I spent another hour convincing myself that it was a complete shitshow with no chance of getting to even, let alone positive, by the end of the year, and began working on a plan to minimize the losses. That took me to the end of the day, and I had not yet formulated a coherent plan that I felt could get past Kendall Roy, so I locked everything in my desk, with the plan to resume on Monday afternoon.

As I left the office to meet Jack, Kristy, Taya, and the boys, I did my best to push all that analysis into the back of my mind so I could enjoy the evening out. We met in the lobby, then headed to Maxim's for dinner, and after dinner, went to see Purple Rain, an easy choice for all of us, despite there being five other movies we all wanted to see. I had the album on CD, and loved the music, and the movie really brought it to life. As we usually did after a movie, we went for ice cream, and then Taya accompanied me home.

July 28, 1984, Chicagoland, Illinois

"Thanks for going easy on me last night," I said to Taya when we got into the shower on Saturday morning.

"The last thing I'd want to do is mess up your exam today!" she exclaimed. "And it's not like I didn't have a bunch of orgasms! It just wasn't our usual over-the-top marathon."

"We have two more Fridays, right?"

"Yes, because I leave for Princeton on the 14th."

"I won't have class on Saturday mornings, so we can make up for last night."

"You make it sound as if I'm a sex fiend!" Taya said, her eyes twinkling.

"And your point is?" I asked with a grin.

Taya laughed, "I suppose, from a guy's perspective, that could never be a bad thing!"

"Not from where I'm standing, anyway. I can't speak to how any other guys think."

"Given that, except for Jack, all your close male friends are gay, I suppose that makes sense. How did that happen?"

 
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